Dark Rider
by Kara Flame
Summary: Blüdhaven and Gotham have been invaded by street racers, all racing for one reason...to get the best car/bike around. When a new racer pops out of nowhere, everyone is asking one question: Who the hell is this guy?
1. Chapter 1

A Yamaha GTS 1000 roared next to a Chevrolet Camaro 2014. The African American driver of the Camaro laughed at the motorcycle next to him.

"Ha! Nice ride bitch!" He cackled sarcastically. "I'll wipe the streets clean with you and your bike!"

The Camaro was bright yellow with burgundy red lines curving all around the car. Neon yellow light shone beneath the car.

The Yamaha was a sleek black bike with dark green lines outlining the body. The rider had a black leather jacket, black long sleeved shirt, black jeans, black sneakers, and a black and white helmet. Black leather gloves clutched the handles of the bike loosely. The rider turned his head to the Camaro driver.

The vehicles were parked in an empty lot covered by the buildings of Gotham. A large crowd surrounded them, watching the tricked out bike and car pull up to their starting line.

"Sexy huh?" The rider chuckled, turning back to look at the woman walking in front of them. "I'm going to enjoy stealing your ride."

"You wish," the Camaro driver said, also turning toward the woman.

The woman, a Caucasian blonde, was wearing a red and white checkered shirt that went just beneath her breasts, acting as some sort of bra. She wore ripped jean booty shorts and wore red lipstick. Her brown eyes shone with excitement as she raised two black and white checkered flags in the air, one in each hand.

She paused five feet away from the drivers, standing directly in front of the space that separated the two vehicles.

"Two laps around this area of the city. The GPS systems programmed into your rides will show you your route!" She shouted, allowing the crowd watching to hear. "First one to win gets the loser's ride. Are you ready, Gotham?!" She yelled, immediately answered with hoots and yells. "Ride or die, remember?!" Once again, she was praised with more screams.

"On my mark!" She yelled. The bike and car immediately started to rev, the healthy roars of the car sounding, allowing the crowd to hear how tricked out their rides were.

"Get set!" The rider of the Yamaha leaned forward as the Camaro driver leaned back, hand on the shift stick.

"GO!" She yelled, bringing down the flags. The vehicles shot forward, speeding into the streets of Gotham, taillights blazing in the night before turning right and mixing in with the other cars on the street.

The Yamaha pulled ahead of the Camaro, grinning as he sped swiftly past the others cars on the street. He slipped through the tight spots smoothly, laughing as the Camaro's wide body couldn't slip through as well. The Yamaha sped up, speed reaching 250 mph.

Behind him, the Camaro driver growled. He glanced at the blue fire extinguisher looking tank next to him labeled N2O.

_No. Not now_, he thought._ It's too tight here. _

The Yamaha took a sharp left, cutting off most of the cars on the street. He crashed through a fence, quickly approaching a high ramp that was actually the roof of a tunnel. He sped up again, reaching 289. His eyes narrowed behind his helmet's visor as he approached the ramp.

Not too far behind, the Camaro had just turned, speeding towards the motorcycle ahead. He cackled as he shifted when the car got too loud, speeding up next to the bike. The vehicles were neck and neck until the motorcycle zoomed ahead.

Blue fire flew from his two mufflers, launching him ahead and his speed increasing to 326.

The bike flew ahead, launching off the ramp. As soon as he landed, he hit the brake, drifting to the left as his GPS told him to.

The Camaro landed onto the same street as the bike sped onto the next street, flames dying out soon after. The Camaro shifted again before hitting the brake and drifting. He stepped on the gas and sped ahead onto the same street as the Yamaha, narrowly missing the black Porsche just around the corner.

The Yamaha roared as the driver pulled onto the next street, approaching the tunnel in which he started. The crowd made way for him and watched as the bike floated past them, a black blur with red strings of light trailing close behind.

The Yamaha didn't stop as he pulled into the final lap. He disappeared around the corner just as the Camaro came blazing in. The Camaro turned the corner, frantically searching for the Yamaha. They finally landed on the bike that was far ahead and turning to the ramp entrance. The Camaro driver's breath hitched as he was losing drastically. He should've used the N2O when he had the chance!

He sped up, weaving and shifting between the cars on the street. He turned to the entrance of the ramp to find it empty. He sped up even faster and landed on the street, only to see the Yamaha escaping four cop cars.

The Camaro driver smirked. _He had it coming to him,_ he thought as he weaved through the cop cars and pulled up next to the slowing Yamaha.

"You're not giving up are you?!" He screamed over the loud noise.

"Like hell I'm not!" The Yamaha driver answered back. The Camaro laughed but stopped as soon as the Yamaha pulled in front of him, cutting him off.

The Yamaha driver couldn't lose his chance. He kept driving in front of the Camaro every time it swerved but keeping a safe distance so the Camaro couldn't hit him from the back or sides.

The vehicles expertly swerved through the other cars on the road, dodging the police officers that sped their way.

The Yamaha took a sharp right turn and flew straight to the finish line. The Camaro driver knew he lost and that no cop saw where the bike went.

He slammed his fist down on the steering wheel as he couldn't bring the cops to the finish line. Being the last place loser, he was left with the job to drive the cops away which could take from a half hour to five hours. The Camaro driver took a sharp left and sped away from the tunnel.

Meanwhile, the Yamaha driver flashed to the finish line and only started to slow down after he crossed it. He took a hard turn to face the crowd, leaving dark tires marks on the pavement next to him. He revved up his bike, letting the healthy roar pump up the crowd.

The woman who started the race gave him a pink slip. She blushed as she read it. "I don't know your real name so."

The Yamaha rider smiled beneath his dark visor that shielded his face. "It's fine," he said in his deep voice. "Thank you, Ora."

People in the crowd rushed up to the biker screaming his name and asking if he could give them his autograph.

The rider smiled and took out a marker. He started to sign everyone's papers or books and as soon as he finished, the tricked out Camaro wheeled into the tunnel. The driver parked the car before getting out, an angry look plastered on his face.

He stomped towards the Yamaha rider and almost socked him in the face when the rider showed him his pink slip.

"Hand it over," the rider sang.

"Shut it, clown!" He snapped but handed him the keys anyway.

The rider laughed and pressed a finger to the helmet. "Alex, prep the trailer, we're bringing home another one."

A male's laugh came through the comm. link. "All right. On my way. East tunnel right?"

"Yep."

"Awesome. I'll be there in ten."

"Kay. See you then."

"Bye." They both hung up and the rider turned to see that everyone had left, even the Camaro driver.

The Yamaha driver rode his bike next to the Camaro before getting off and leaning against the car, twirling the Pink Slip in his hands.

PINK SLIP, it read. Date: July 3, 2014. Race: North East Tunnels. Host: Ora Santiago (cursive). Car Won: Chevrolet Camaro 2014. Winner: The Dark Rider.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is another chapter of Dark Rider. Sorry this has taken so long to get out. I've been focusing on my other account.**

**I would like to give a HUGE thanks to my wonderful beta, Varishi. This chapter would not be up without her. **

**I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Criticism and nice reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks. **

Dark Rider ll

Batman slammed his fist down on the keyboard of the BatComputer.

"Damn it!" He swore. Again, the Dark Knight's targets were lost.

The past month was treacherous for Gotham's Caped Crusader. The dark city had been overrun by street racers. There had been street racers in the past but the dangerous sport soon got old after a short time. Then, out of the blue, Gotham had five different street races going on in the same night. No one even knew about them until pedestrians reported cars and bikes speeding down the street with complex interior and exterior designing.

Batman had Red Hood scout Gotham for a few nights, to ask around and look for any street races. Jason had found a few, but all of the racers were hidden and only the host and fans were visible. There was something else though. Something very suspicious about these races.

Jason had told Bruce that there was this one guy that always raced the most famous and skilled racers in all of Gotham. Out of all the races in the entire city, the mysterious person raced for pink slips or large amounts of money. Even if it wasn't a high priced reward, the racer would go up against the most difficult drivers in any hosted race that particular night.

Jason never got to see his face. The man always raced with a motorcycle so the helmet was always on. Red Hood asked around Gotham and his informants, making sure they gave him every detail about this notorious racer.

Every person was the same. No one knew anything about him. Well, at least nothing of importance. It was all the same. The racer had appeared out of what seemed like thin air. He came into Gotham without a trace, no backstory. He was called very few names: Ghost Rider, The Phantom, Hell's Spawn...The most common was simple and plain but had meaning behind it: The Dark Rider.

Before Bruce could think about the case any longer, Tim Drake walked into the BatCave and interrupted Batman's thoughts.

"Bruce, Dick just called. He said The Dark Rider struck again."

Batman turned around. "I know. The race just finished. Red Hood should be coming back soon."

Tim shook his head. "No. I mean The Dark Rider raced in Blüdhaven."

Batman's eyes narrowed. "When was this?"

"Yesterday," Tim answered. "Dick apologized and said that he didn't have time to call earlier."

Bruce nodded. "Tell him to keep a closer eye out. We need this Dark Rider brought in as soon as possible."

"What about the other racers?" Tim questioned.

"We don't need to worry about them," was the short reply.

_'It seems like some kind of tournament,'_ Bruce thought, staring intently at the bright computer screen. _'The losers of the races never seem to appear again. The winners advance to the next round. It seems like this Dark Rider is skilled. If this is a tournament, where did it originate from? Who is behind this whole thing? The Dark Rider is anonymous. He is skilled and intelligent. Judging by the way I can't track him, he has to have done this before. No villain I know is this smart though. The ones I do know, well, this isn't their thing. Any hero could do this but they wouldn't. No hero would save lives just to turn their backs and commit crime. There's something about The Dark Rider. I intend to find out what.'_

"Did Red Hood tell you anything yet?" Tim asked.

Bruce shook his head. "No. He didn't get there on time."

Tim nodded._ 'Didn't get there on time? How?'_ He looked to the BatComputer. A thick green line highlighted a certain area on the Gotham City map.

"That's the North East Tunnels. Why are they racing there?" Tim muttered to himself.

Bruce turned to Tim. "What was that?"

Tim snapped his attention to Bruce, surprised and thoughts broken. "Oh! Nothing. Just thinking." Bruce turned back to the computer without another word.

_'Wait a minute...'_ Tim immediately walked over to the nearby printer and grabbed a blank piece of paper, unaware of Bruce's stare. He grabbed a sharpie and immediately began to list the areas of Gotham where The Dark Rider had raced.

Tim began whispering to himself as he listed. "North East Tunnels, City Hall, South Tunnels, Gotham Bridge, Steel Mill, Gotham Radio Tower, and the Monarch Theatre." Tim stood there for a moment, trying to match up the similarities between the seven locations.

_'This would be so much easier with a Gotham City map,'_ Tim thought. As if his surrogate father had read his mind, a Gotham City map was placed next to the list as well as a few highlighters. Tim smiled at Bruce in thanks and the smile was returned.

Tim and Bruce immediately got to highlighting after Bruce pulled up the map containing all of the different races. They highlighted street after street in different colors, trying to figure out if there was some sort of pattern or connection. When they were finished, the map was decorated with bright colors. The most frustrating thing was that there was no connection. It was pretty much random.

Tim's eyes flared with anger and frustration. _'How? How is this possible?! You don't just say, 'hey! Let's race there!' It doesn't work like that!' _

"Well," Tim started, anger evident in his voice. "There goes another idea and another waste of time," he finished before tossing the blue highlighter in his hand onto the table.

"Tim, we'll figure this out. We'll find out who The Dark Rider is and we'll lock him away for good. I promise." Bruce squeezed his son's shoulder reassuringly before heading back to BatComputer.

Tim and Bruce continued to concentrate and think in silence before a motorcycle roared into the BatCave, causing the bats to shriek and move to another area of the large cave. Jason got off his motorcycle and ripped off his helmet and domino mask, revealing a frustrated look.

"No luck?" Tim sighed, still staring at the map.

"Nope," Jason replied, leaning against the table next to Tim and facing Bruce. "All I saw was an empty alleyway."

"I wasn't able to get the signal locked onto them in time for the race," Bruce admitted. "They were scattered between other street races."

Jason nodded. "These cars and bikes...Bruce, they have tricked out cars. They have hydraulics, high horsepower, and they even have nitrous. Bruce, these racers are more experienced than us when it comes to driving."

"They're that good, huh?" Tim muttered, still concentrating on the map.

"Yeah," Jason replied before looking down at Tim. "What's wrong with you?"

Tim ran his fingers through his hair. "This whole thing isn't making sense."

"I told you not to stress it," Bruce reminded. "We'll figure this out."

Tim nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Where's Damian?"

"Last time I checked, he was in the library," Bruce answered.

Jason turned and looked at the map in front of Tim. After studying it for a while, he finally said, "I can see how this is annoying you."

"Ya think?" Tim snorted. He ran a tired hand over his face. "Dick said he'd be here soon. There was something he had to take care of first."

Bruce nodded and stood up. "What time is it?"

Tim took out his phone from his sweater pocket. "Twelve thirty seven."

Bruce nodded. "We'll try again tomorrow."

"Do you have any idea why Gotham suddenly has street racers around every corner?" Jason questioned.

Bruce looked at the Gotham City map. "I think this is a tournament. An elimination series."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Tournament?"

Bruce nodded. "The same racers don't come back after they lose. The winners seem to advance to the next round. In the first week, there were fifty races. In the second week, there were seventy two. That's one hundred twenty two winners, among them being The Dark Rider.

Tim and Jason glanced at each other.

"What happens after the final race?" Jason queried.

Bruce's mouth thinned. "We lose him. We won't be able to find him again."


End file.
